


Try (Not) to Remember

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k18 [8]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Branding, Burns, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Prompt: Scar to remember, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 04:45:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16078709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: After being rescued from the ship he and Lance were being held on, Keith has to deal with the lasting marks.





	Try (Not) to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel piece for 'What Friends are For', so you should probably read that one first. Also I know it's short, but it just felt right, so I hope this satisfies the requester. :)

Alone in his room, Keith traced the edges of the white scar with trembling fingers. 

It had been near on a week since he and Lance had been captured, and subsequently rescued, but he’d only gotten out of the healing pod a day or so ago. The pod hadn’t been able to heal the scars, not completely, so he was sporting several patches on his chest and a few lines on his leg from the break. But the worst one was the brand.

It was just the right shade of white to stand out from his pale skin, and the location made it impossible to hide without constantly wearing turtlenecks, which Keith absolutely could not stand. So now he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, staring, trying to force himself to accept it so that he could move on with his life, but it wasn’t working. 

It was just… so…  _ Galra.  _

And it wasn’t subtle, either. Sure the mark on his Blade was a Galra symbol, but one few people knew and easy to conceal. Before, if he’d wanted to hide his Galra heritage, he could. Hide away his knife and just not say anything and no one would know. But this was blatant and obvious. Pressed on his skin for anyone to see. 

And it wasn’t just a Galra symbol. It was  _ the  _ Galra symbol, the symbol of Zarkon’s empire, the one that had glowed on the walls of Sendak’s ship when he’d been looking for Red all those months ago. They’d branded him in more than just name-- they’d marked him the property of the Empire, like a head of cattle, like a slave, and announced to anyone who saw him that at some point he’d been a part of the Empire, and he’d been made to submit.

Keith fastened his eyes on the mark above his collarbone and forced back bile. He could still feel the sear of white-hot pain from when they’d pressed the heated metal to him, hear the sizzle of his skin melting, smell it. He hadn’t even tried to sleep yet in fear it would haunt him in his dreams. 

_ Damnit, get a grip.  _

He had to get over this. Lance already felt guilty enough for not getting them out sooner, for not being tortured alongside him, and he’d only feel worse if Keith let slip how much it actually bothered him. 

There was a knock on his door, and Keith turned partially without taking his eyes off of his reflection. 

“Who is it?”

“It’s Shiro.”

_ Fuck.  _ He couldn’t let Shiro see him like this-- Shiro went through so much worse than he had, for so much longer, he shouldn’t disrespect him by wallowing about his miniscule experience when Shiro was marked all over from his captivity. 

“I just want to talk.”

But at the same time… if anyone could understand what Keith was thinking, it would be Shiro. If he could trust anybody with this, it would be Shiro, and he wasn’t stupid enough to think this was something he could just ignore until it went away. 

“Ok, come in.”

He held very still as the bedroom door slid open. There was a pause as Shiro glanced around for him, then he appeared in the mirror behind Keith, framed by the open bathroom door. His grey eyes flicked over him, taking in the situation, and then they softened as he took a few steps forward. 

“Hey, Keith.”

“Hey.” He hated how hoarse his voice still was after so long in the pod, but Shiro didn’t flinch away or react. In the mirror, Shiro’s eyes settled on the brand. This time, unlike in the cell, he didn’t go pale or go into a flashback. He just took a deep breath before settling his hand on Keith’s right shoulder, the one with the Blade scar.

Galra on both sides, now.

“I get it.”

“I know you do.”

Shiro licked his lips. “I have one too.”

Keith turned to face him instead of his reflection, surprised, and Shiro gave him a watery smile before putting his back to him. Slowly, Shiro gathered up the back of his shirt, exposing scars upon scars, and right in between his shoulder blades was the same brand that Keith now wore on his throat. 

A new surge of anger ignited in his belly, and he had to grind his teeth to keep from shouting. Branding him was one thing, he was a prisoner of war, and as much as he didn’t want to be, being part Galra bound him to the Empire in a way he couldn’t change. But to do it to Shiro, kind Shiro who was from an ignorant planet who didn’t know any better, was just unacceptable.

He clenched his fists at his sides as Shiro let the shirt fall and faced him again.

“It’s not fair.” He muttered, glaring holes through the floor.

“No, it’s not.” Shiro agreed. For a moment they just stood there together, not needing to say anything. But something was hovering at the back of Keith’s mind, demanding to be known, and it was probably callous of him to ask but he just had to know.

“Do you remember it?”

Shiro paused, and his eyes shifted an inch away from Keith’s face, going far away as he searched back through his swiss cheese memory. 

“I’m… not sure.” He blinked a few times, shook his head, and looked back to Keith. “I remember something that might’ve been it, but it’s fuzzy, and I’m not certain.”

Keith hummed, his question answered. He was surprised when Shiro put his hand back on his shoulder.

“Guess that puts me a step up, huh?” He asked with a sad, guilty smile, and Keith’s own guilt reared sharply in his chest.

“Don’t say that.” He choked out, ashamed at how his voice caught and the surprised look on Shiro’s face when he said it. “Don’t… you went through so much worse…”

“Hey.” Shiro put his other hand on Keith’s other shoulder, not even seeming to notice when his thumb overlaid the lower corner of the scar. “It’s not a competition, Keith. All of us have been hurt by the Empire, one way or the other.”

That was new since Keith joined the Blade-- the others had stopped saying ‘The Galra’ and started saying ‘the Empire’. It was a little thing, but it made Keith want to cry with gratitude every time they did it. 

“It’s alright. You don’t have to pretend. I understand.”

With a muffled sob, Keith crumpled forward against Shiro’s chest, and he wasted no time in winding his arms around Keith’s shoulders and tucking his head under his chin. He held Keith tight-- not tight enough to be constricting but enough to feel safe.

“You’re so strong.” Shiro murmured into his hair as his back shook with another silent sob. “So strong and brave. I’m so proud of you.”

Keith raised his hands just enough to fist into the back of Shiro’s shirt, unspeakably grateful that his friend was here to hang on to, to tether him so that he didn’t float away. 

“I’ve got you.”


End file.
